Old Fashioned
by TheSilentPen
Summary: 'Who asks ANYONE to 'go steady' anymore.' Quinn and Rachel have been dating for a while. Quinn's old-fashioned, so she plans to ask Rachel to go steady on the drive home from a performance. T for language.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or any of its characters

**A/N:** A little bit of faberry sweetness. This is actually a true story, believe it or not. One of the sweetest things that anyone had ever done. It just screamed 'MAKE ME INTO A FANFICTION!' so I **had** to. The cosmos screamed it at me. It's different from my usual style of writing, as this is a style that I used to use in my old fandom (thought writing, I call it) Please **review** if you get the chance, let me know what you thought :)

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><p><strong>Old-Fashioned<strong>

TheSilentPen

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><p>I'm old-fashioned.<p>

I really can't help it. Because the fact is, I've been old-fashioned since the first day my Mom put an Aretha Franklin record on our old turntable, put me on her shoes, and danced with me.

I've been able to hide the unfortunate geekiness of my old-fashioned personality through things like Cheerios and Celibacy Club, along with disguising certain things as 'religious virtues.' But unfortunately, being in Glee Club hasn't exactly helped in repressing the utter lameness of my suppressed geekdom.

And dating Rachel Berry hasn't exactly helped with that problem either.

In fact, she's probably made that problem **worse**. What with the way she absolutely **adores** grand gestures of a passionate nature. She loves getting flowers and chocolates, loves the stereotypical walks underneath the light of the full moon, loves the ritual of saying goodbye on her stoop with a nice innocent kiss.

She has her little romantic quirks (if you tell anyone that I actually **liked** doing it, I will come after you with a **slushy shower **at the ready) and I have mine.

And that includes the process of an old-fashioned relationship.

I believe in courting a girl… having a time of 'casual dating.' You know? No strings attached for the moment, testing the waters, just getting to know each other? I believe in getting 'more serious' where you see each other a little more and you're 'into' seeing them.

And I believe in going steady, which, I guess, in modern day language, means being exclusive.

I can see you all fighting your giggles at my damn terminology, but that's just the way I am, okay? I don't believe that just because you go on one date, that means your dating. Frankly, I **frown** on that.

Because doesn't every girl deserve a little bit of romancing? A little of an 'I'm getting to know you, but I know that you want to keep your options open, so let me prove I'm the best for you' time?

At least, that's what I think I owe to **my **girlfriend.

Well, not YET girlfriend, but at the end of this day, I think that she will be… At least, I hope so. Because I've been waiting for the right moment all this week… even though I've had plenty of opportunities.

Monday's date: impossible because her Dads kept interrupting. I love the Mr. Berrys, but that day, I felt like I wanted to shut them in their room and nail the door over. I'd been leaning over to kiss her, and I had my hand on her cheek and everything, then they just HAD to come in right when I'm about to ask.

School? I tried during lunch, while we sat underneath the tree. She was lying in my lap, those damn irresistible chocolate eyes fixed on me, that big Broadway grin on her face. It would've been absolutely, positively romantic.

Then Finnocent had to bumble over and ask Rachel how to put a damn straw in a juice box.

REALLY, Finn? There's a metallic little hole in the top. Gee, I WONDER where you're supposed to stab the straw.

Needless to say, Santana gave him a nice, Quinn approved, atomic wedgie later that day for his interruption… Not that Rachel would know that's what Frankenteen was bumbling about during the choreography as he tried unsuccessfully to get his tidy whities out his butt-crack.

Granted, a Cardiff bus isn't necessarily the **best** place to ask, but I know that it'll be good once I make it a little more… romantic.

You see, we've just gotten in from a performance/free day at Disneyworld. New Directions auditioned during December and sent in a tape, and lucky us, we got accepted.

Unfortunately, to get the lowest possible price (Figgins is still a damn cheapskate after all this time), we had to take a damn bus all the way to Florida. Which meant a few days… or more… of traveling.

It's been a long day, Rachel and I are in line to go inside the bus behind the others.

My arm is draped comfortably across Rachel's shoulders as she leans into me, tanned lids fluttering over rich browns as she fights to keep awake. She burrows as far into my side as the thick material of my Cheerios jacket will allow.

"Tired, sweetheart?" I murmur softly, kissing her gently on the forehead and lovingly pushing brown locks away from tired orbs.

"Mmhmm," she hums, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"Well don't fall asleep before we get our seats," I smile.

I never understand how I could've hated someone so completely adorable ('_Sexual. Tension… Or maybe some kind of weird slushy dripped Berry fetish that you have.'_ Santana had once told me while Brittany intoned '_you wanted to give her sweet lady kisses.')_. Because a sleepy Rachel Berry is one of the cutest things on earth, besides cuddly stuffed lambs… not that I would know, because I don't have one.

"Whoa there, you narcoleptic," I chuckle, steadying Rachel as she stumbled forward as I walked closer to the bus entrance. "Do I need to carry you?"

"'M perfectly capable of walking on my own," Rachel slurs sleepily, her eyes already beginning to close once more.

"I somehow doubt that," I say. I crouch down, grabbing beneath Rachel's legs and around her back, drawing her into my arms as she squeals in my ear.

"Quinn Fabray, put me down!" she yells, suddenly much more awake than before.

"Mmm, I don't think so," I press a kiss to the column of her neck, "this is one of my favorite things to do."

"You know how much I hate it when you do this!"

"But I also know how much you like romantic gestures."

"How is this romantic?"

"Isn't it every girl's dream to be carried over a threshold?" I take one step onto the bus, turning sideways to fit the two of us into the narrow entrance. Rachel's fist pounds weakly into my chest in a halfhearted attempt to get away.

"This isn't a threshold! It's the staircase of the bus, leading up into a dirt encrusted interior!"

"Then pretend, babe," I say against the shell of her ear, savoring the shiver I feel running down the whole of her spine. I back into the seat where our things are located, grinning as I listen to the indignant little squeak Rachel gives as I unceremoniously toss her into her seat by the aisle.

"That, Quinn Fabray," she glares up at me, "was **not** romantic."

"Hmm, you know, sweetheart," I sit down, grabbing her up in my arms and press a short peck to her cheek, "you're calling me 'Fabray' an awful lot today. It's getting to be a little bit of a flashback to Junior year."

"I believe that the situation was in reverse in that particular year, Quinn," she sighs into my shoulder. "You never **could** stop calling me 'Berry' an extraordinary amount of times…"

"Better than 'Man Hands' though, no?" I say, shifting to take my jacket off. I drape the warm, soft fabric over us like a makeshift blanket, pulling Rachel closer, locking my arms about her.

"I believe anything would be a significant improvement over that moniker."

I bury my face in waves of brunette hair, letting a wonderful mixture of vanilla and spicy cinnamon tingle at my synapses. I tighten grasp, savoring the weight and feel of Rachel's warmth against me.

It's times like these that I love the most. When Rachel is here with me, in my arms. When I know that there's something that makes staying in insufferable Lima, Ohio for another few months more bearable. When I know that there's someone who loves me unconditionally and doesn't expect something in return.

I've been so used to paying for love. I paid Puck through Beth… My mother through my hesitant presence at home. I paid Russell by being the most perfect, angelic being that I could possibly be, just so he could show me off like some type of prized Crucifix that he would hang on the wall above the fireplace.

But with Rachel… I just _exist_. I just… am. I pay her with the love I give, and giving love is receiving. It's opening your soul to someone, giving yourself up, and bettering yourself.

The two of us remain silent, basking in each other's warmth. Listening to the gentle hum of the bus as it cruises down the road back toward our miserable little town full of narrow-minded people.

I gently unclasp my hands, softly reaching for Rachel's hand, ghosting gentle patterns across the surface of her palm.

It's now or never…

"Rach?" I swallow heavily, licking at the sudden dryness of my lips.

"Mmmhmm?"

"We've been dating for three months… And despite the fact that we've had our ups and downs, the past few months have been the happiest of my life," I take a shuddering breath.

Rachel pulls back, just enough for me to see the marvelous sparkle in her eyes and the soft smile gracing the contours of her full lips. I can see the lightest dusting of red across her cheeks as she looks away shyly. "It's been the greatest months of my life as well, Quinn."

"R-Rachel you," I grasp her hands, "you really saved me."

She seems confused, because she has the most adorable frown on her face. "I… saved you?"

"After the whole babygate incident, I was so messed up." God was I ever. "I didn't think that **anyone **would love me, much less want to be with me. I was damaged goods. And I was such a bitch to you."

"I think anyone has the right to be a bitch after a year of crap," Rachel inserts.

"Well besides that," I continue, "I had given up on anyone loving me… Then you showed up on my damn doorstep with that big smile of yours and all those movies and I just… You just made me feel **wanted**."

"You made me feel beautiful and wanted… and I want **you** and I **love** you," I pull her hands to my lips, kissing each knuckle gently, watching her eyes soften. I look directly into her eyes, pulling the two limbs to my chest. "Rachel Berry… go steady with me?"

There's an audible silence that fills the little area, leaving my words to hang unanswered. Rachel's looking at me, pearly white teeth biting her lips… and tears…

Wait, is Rachel Berry _**laughing**_ at me?

Sure enough, Rachel bursts into laughter seconds later. Wonderful, trilling laughter that makes my heart jump as I fall more and more in love with her.

But another part of me just feels irritated.

"G-go s-steady?" another round of laughter peals forth from that delightful mouth as she falls backwards into the seat, tears dripping from her eyes.

"Yes, go steady!" the jacket falls off of us as I throw my hands up in exasperation. "What's so funny about me wearing my heart on my sleep, telling you that I love you, then asking you to go steady?"

"Who **uses** the term 'going steady' anymore?"

"**I** do!"

"Th-that's so-."

"Old-fashioned?"

"YES!"

"Well maybe because I **am** old-fashioned!" I huff, crossing my arms and turning away from her, pout firmly in place. Oh God, I **pout** now. It HAS to be because of her. I USED TO **GLOWER.**

There's a deep, rich chuckle before dainty little hands go to my cheeks. "Oh baby, don't be upset." Light pressure guides me to meet those beautiful eyes, a huge grin plastered across Rachel's lips.

"I'm sorry I laughed at you," her grin fades to a gentle smile. "It's just that I'm used to more 'modern' terms like 'will you be my girlfriend' or 'will you go out with me.'"

"But I think that it's sweet that you would say it that way," she kisses my cheeks. "In fact, it's adorable. You're the sweetest girl I've ever dated."

"Well tha-." I pause, thinking of the wording of the sentence. "The **sweetest** girl? There's been more than one girl?"

"Well of course, I've been aware of my bisexuality for a _number_ of years."

"Who and how many?" Oh hell, no one touches **my** girl!

"Quinn, can we get back to the topic now?"

"No, absolutely no-."

Soft, warm lips move against mine, stunning me into silence. The girl was always good at getting me off topic… with those **damn** _wonderful_ kisses of hers.

As we break the kiss, I lean my forehead against hers, eyes closed as I chuckle.

"So… are you going to ask me again?" Rachel asks innocently. I can practically **see** the shit-eating grin on her face in my mind's eye. Damn the girl for being such an amazing kisser.

You're such a troublemaker…" I mutter, lifting a hand to brush brown locks behind a delicate ear.

I leave my hand gently on her cheek, opening my eyes, kissing her gently once more.

"Go steady with me?"

A faint smile crosses Rachel's lips as she leans forward, millimeters from my lips.

"I thought you'd never ask."

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><p><strong>AN: **I just couldn't resist writing this piece. Leave a **review**, let me know what you think :)


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